


The Dark Lord Who Taught

by Auctor (86Auctor)



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Nothing Serious in There, Teacher Voldemort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-02
Updated: 2020-07-02
Packaged: 2021-03-04 20:40:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,815
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25032589
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/86Auctor/pseuds/Auctor
Summary: Another intake of the first year where Voldemort possessed Quirrell and became the best DADA teacher ever. Instead of searching for the stone, he finds his passion in teaching.Well, here we go. One-shot
Comments: 8
Kudos: 27





	The Dark Lord Who Taught

**Author's Note:**

> Due to a reddit prompt, here is a one-shot where Voldemort discovers a real passion for teaching while searching for the stone. For the sake of the story, please bear in mind that he will be a bit OOC and there will be some (minor I hope... lol who am I fooling?) inconsistencies in the pureblood/muggleborn social treatment.

It was the perfect plan, no flaw in that impeccable logic, direct resultance of his superior intellect. Hide on the back of his minion's head while the fool was searching how to get this damned stone, all of this right under the nose of Dumbledore. And giving him all the time to study his nemesis Harry Potter, the foolish boy who was responsible of his current state! He couldn't wait to get a proper body back and enact his revenge upon the wizarding world. They were still afraid of him after his 'death' and soon, they would learn that they were not afraid enough. He would just have to wait patiently, bide his time and prepare himself for the grandiose resurrection of Lord Voldemort. It was really truly the perfect plan.

…or at least, it was supposed to be.

In the deep complexity of his scheming, he may have missed a few minor details that he first assumed as unimportant but that proved to be more troublesome than expected. Maybe making a list would do him some good and appease his ire? Yes, let's make a list to reign in his anger.

Firstly, the garlic odor. Clearly, it was a sound idea to avoid someone getting too close and discover him, even if accidentally, but for him to be forced to smell garlic all the day, he would never mock vampires again after this… and if he hadn't already decided to kill Quirrell after he got his body back, he totally would have now. Nobody needed to know that Lord Voldemort spent almost a year wrapped around garlic scented clothing and Quirrell was the only one in the know… such a sacrifice to make. But priorities, first getting the stone, and after then only killing the minion.

Secondly, Quirell's stuttering. Again, a smart idea to play the weak willed idiot, nobody would suspect such a pitiful person. Nobody except Severus but that was his job as a spy to suspect everyone so that was a given, especially considering that he didn't announce himself to the Potion Master. So much garlic. But what was really grating was that he had to bear this insufferable persona every single time Quirrell was in the presence of someone else… and he was a teacher… in a school. After the first week, Lord Voldemort promised a thousand deaths on the idiots who deemed acceptable to pack so many imbeciles and incompetents in the same place at the same time and lamented that, even when begging for their life, his Death Eaters didn't stutter so much. On a mental note, a mandatory appointment with a speech therapist for every new recruits didn't seem like a waste of resources. A lot of peace of mind with a few efforts on his own, already his brilliant mind was giving him so much needed relief. He could almost hear his followers speaking clearly and intelligibly without tripping on a single syllabus, what a beauty to the ears it would be… but that was on the future and the list was not over.

Thirdly, the ignorance of the student body. Lord Voldemort refused, simply refused to believe that when he was a student himself, his peers (only in age, he was already so much above them in everything he could think of) were similar to this… appalling performance he experienced in every class. He could not think a more demoralizing experience than watching Longbottom trying to use the green spark spell… with his wand on the bad end. By the magic, where was Bellatrix to finish the job when you needed her? And this Granger mudblood just wouldn't stop raising her hand, sometimes even before Quirrell started speaking… He had to admit, sometimes he didn't know if he had to be angry at the mudblood for shooting her arm with a speed defying human anatomy in a pathetic attempt to show off her ridiculous knowledge, or be grateful that he didn't have to endure Quirrel's infuriating stutter even for a short time, or longer if the mudblood started speaking since she apparently had the ability to breathe and speak at the same time. What a particular inferior creature.

And fourthly, the forced intimacy. He was Lord Voldemort, he cheated Death, he was the greatest Dark Lord Great Britain ever seen and he made the wizarding world shook in fear with a single utterance of his name… and he was stuck on the back of the head of this fool all day long. Which meant that when Quirrell taught class, which happened a lot, he was stuck between watching a blackboard through the thrice damned garlic scented turban several hours a day, or using legilimancy on Quirrell's mind to see what he saw… dozens and dozens of ungrateful and snot nosed brats barely interested to learn magic… to be fair and even knowing he was doing it on purpose, Quirrell was still a horrible teacher but only if it was just that. Since he was part of the man, that meant he felt everything his host felt, whether he wanted it or not, and he certainly could have lived without the consequences of Quirrell eating habits. He was never more thankful for his occlumancy that when his servant had to relieve himself, such a disgrace and such another good reason to kill him after getting his body back.

There, the list was made, his terrible anger was now under his supreme control and he could now go back to more interesting activities, like… watching the blackboard while Quirrell was trying, and failing, to teach a first year class of Gryffindor. What a loser and what a bunch of young cretins.

"N-n-n-now, m-m-mister Fi-fi-fi-fi-Finnigan. P-p-please a-aim y-y-your wa-wa-wand a-at the t-t-t-target and p-p-practice the s-s-spell "f-f-f-flipendo", j-j-j-just like s-s-shown in c-class."

Oh sweet Morgana, not Finnigan! This idiot was clearly a scientific mystery, since he was apparently able to explode or burn everything he tried to spell, how was that even possible? Green sparks spell: desk burned, Red sparks spell: chair exploded, Levitation in Charm: feather turned to ashes and so on. There was a rumor stating that he managed to burn a plant in herbology by messing with the soil but he doubted it… a bit. The problem was that Finnigan was still a bundle of chaos capable of mass destruction if left unsupervised and only slightly better when in presence of a capable teacher… something Quirrell was clearly not. And now the young menace was shaking his wand in a general direction while mumbling the incantation. Enunciation, dammit! If he continued like that, he… Lo and behold, Finnigan managed to transform a simple Knockback Jinx into a powered Bombarda spell by sheer incompetence and was on his merry way to annihilate the whole class… with him in it, not a single change! He would not die from this thanks to his horcruxes, but Quirrell was not so gifted and it would be a major pain to find another loyal follower, possess them and come back to Hogwarts to get this damned stone. With the power of his advanced knowledge and reflexes honed by decades of practice, he barely registered what he did until the beginning explosion was contained in a force field he came across in Poland and died out after a moment.

"You foolish boy! You call this an incantation? You could have turned this classroom into charred debris with a such sloppy work! If you're not able to say precisely what you want in this world, I can assure you that magic will fail you. Every. Single. Time!" He stopped his rant at this moment in the utter silence of the class, now aware of his situation. Somehow, he just performed an advanced but way too much risky Persian possession ritual on Quirrell… or rather, he warped the existing ritual he used to be on the back of his follower's head and made the possession complete. So now, he completely inhabited Quirrell's body and… just as he feared, the mind of his follower had been completely obliterated in the process. Considering there was one in two chance that his mind could have been erased, he could be excused for not using this ritual at the first chance… Pro: he now had a body on his own and did not lived as a parasite anymore. Con: it was not his body and it lacked the power that made his greatness so getting the stone was still the objective… another con: there was a full class of children in front of him, looking wide eyed.

"What?" Better keep it short with simpletons like that.

"Pro… professor, you're not stuttering anymore." said the mudblood Granger.

Oh…right, dang. Quirrell was supposed to play a stammering incompetent and he just performed advanced magic in a blink of the eye and spoke clearly in front of too many witnesses to just obliviate everyone. Quick thinking.

"… Indeed, it would seems that mister Finnigan's blunder gave me so much of a shock that I overcame my… handicap." he said with gritted teeth before forcibly relaxing his features, thankful for his advanced adaptability. He now had a body again but it was not the time to strike yet. He would bide his time just as planned and execute his revenge in the most unexpected moment. But for now, he would just have to play the nice DADA teacher. "Right, let's resume the lesson… in fact, we are going to do anything but that. As said earlier, enunciation and precise movements are keys for a correctly done spell, something mister Finnigan demonstrated perfectly by doing the exact opposite. So put away your wands, for the rest of this class, we are going to see the importance of proper elocution and be warned that I will find… fitting punishments for those who would be tempted to just lay back." He considered making them practice their movements with painted feathers on blank canvas so that sloppy gesture could be obvious, but Finnigan was still there so he took no chance.

Fortunately, the class was too shocked by the brutal and sudden change to even think to disobey. And it was the last class of the day, which gave him time to consider his strategy after letting them go. The gossip mill was already in full effect so the whole school rapidly knew about his change of character and he deemed it more prudent to dinner in his quarters. Continue to impersonate Quirrell, do the bare minimum with the course established to satisfy these idiots and avoid suspicion and go for the stone at night. Simple and sound plan, which made it much more flexible for the unexpected.

And the unexpected came, mostly in the form of homework to grade, more than once he threw a fit of rage when confronted to the stupidity of the student body and vaporized this affront… before realizing that he had to justify where these wastes of parchment were gone and decided to pretend something terrible happened and that everyone got EE for the trouble. Content students were students who were not asking questions… except for Granger who aimed for the top and took EE as an insult to her intelligence. Worthy ambition but quite ridiculous for a mudblood.

And another unexpected came by some students in superior classes, and these students had questions. No hard question, there was nothing in the Hogwarts curriculum that he did not master to the perfection, but… engaging questions, the ones that tended to lead to more complex and interesting questions and theoretical problems. Sometimes, between the students earnest desire to discover the true wonders of magic and his own inability to not make sure everyone knew about his superior intellect, simple questions about the class made way to long and intense debates on magical researches that ended only late in the evening, far too late for him to have time to grade work and search for the stone… not to mention, but when he saw the abysmal level of the students as a whole, Lord Voldemort decided it would not do to conquer Great Britain just to have such pitiful wizards as his citizens. He considered himself a perfectionist and so made a (not unbreakable, mind you) vow to be sure that these students were perfectly ready to become upstanding citizens when his society would take form.

So his classes, which were considered a bit of a joke before, turned drastically around and became one of the most serious course in the school, on par with McGonagall's Transfiguration and Severus Potion. For the students used to goof around before, it was a hard wake up call but he was a Dark Lord for nothing and so it was no trouble to groom them into obedience. The impressionable ones were struck down with fear of authoritative figure, like a real professor who knew what he talked about, and for the smart ones, he had to to resort to his cleverness and his charisma to make them see the benefit of following his directions, like the Weasley twins. Blood-traitor but really smart and with a creativeness like he rarely saw in adult wizards. His Death Eaters would probably be quick of eliminating them just for the treason of their blood but Lord Voldemort was perfectly able to see greatness and was unwilling to waste such useful specimen, especially ones who were so cunning and meticulous in their jokes that they could very well be Slytherins hiding in the Lions den for purpose. So it came to a deal one evening after class.

"Misters Weasley, let's talk about your behavior in class."

"Our behavior, professor?" asked one of the twin, Fred or George he didn't care because they were always together and so it was a waste of time to try to distinguish them.

"Yes, your behavior. I would appreciate for you to not take me for a fool and think that I am not aware of your troublemaker reputation known by the entire school. Your names are always brought to the table during the weekly meeting with the other teachers." Always navigate between the stick and the carrot with these ones. First a subtle threat to make them aware of how serious the discussion was and then a mention that they were famous amongst the teachers to slightly strike their ego and make them more amenable to his arguments. "Now that we are perfectly clear, this is what I propose: since I am perfectly aware of how you can come up with creative solutions to your problems and that I cannot turn a blind eye when I see greatness, you will be given handwork specially suited for your… talents. Something you will find equally challenging and rewarding for now and for your future and I will personally intervene whenever I'm able to put a good word for what I'm sure will be outstanding work. In exchange, I expect you to be most attentive and sharp during my class, no jokes, no good word and no cheekiness. Otherwise, in addition to a letter for your parents at every occasion, I will put my equally creative mind to come out with detentions that I can assure you will bore you out of your mind. The choice is yours, Weasley."

It only took two minutes for the twins to agree unreservedly with his terms and his class gained a lot. He delivered his part and gave them most unique problems based on his personal experiences that used every bit of their commendable intelligence to a point that they did not have much time left for their jokes, which had the unforeseen benefit to reduce the number of detention given to them, plus the ones he simply canceled with a word on his own as part of the deal, and alleviate a weight of the teaching staff's mind. In exchange, he gained two of the most earnest and studious students he ever saw, which led their classmates to get more involved with their studies. What brilliant negotiator he was! And so, this problem was solved, which left him more time to deal with other problems, like the protections behind the stone… or the spawn of Lucius Malfoy. Lucius was probably one of his most hardest supporter and he saw now the cunning of claiming to be imperiused to be able to stay within the society and continue to shape it for his inevitable return. But sadly, for every quality Lucius possessed, his son has yet to show something alike and was one on the most brash and hot headed Slytherin present in the school but not the worst since there was Crabbe and Goyle for that spot but still. No finesse, no subtlety and next to no planning which caused a lot of unrest in the school and that was bad for him, so a meeting had to be ordered to fix this mess.

"Mister Malfoy, could you tell me how do you think is that your father is such an upstanding citizen and successful politician? I would like a clear and constructed answer." he asked to the boy who had the audacity to look smug in his presence, another failure to add of the growing list of things that Lucius did wrong when raising his heir.

"Well, I would say it's because that Father is a powerful pureblood who had the advantage to be born in a good family who did not turn back of its heritage and its teaching. The rest came by itself like all natural things." … That was it? Just the blood and the birth? Another mark to get on the list.

"It's an interesting answer, Mr Malfoy. Here's what I would say about your father success: he is a very astute man who, thanks to his teaching, is perfectly adept at reading the ambiance of a room in the blink of the eye and act accordingly. He has such way with words that I'm sure that he could tell a diplomat to go to hell and make them looking forward it. He has always been able to carefully pick his battles and his allies in accordance to his benefit. If he ever makes an enemy, it is because he deemed it perfectly acceptable and that he has every chance of winning." The boy was clearly strutting with every praise made to his father. Unlike the Wealsey twins, here he had to serve the carrot first to open the Slytherin to him. And now, the stick. 

"Which makes me realize that right now, you are unknowingly damaging his progress with the way you act. I saw you badmouthing and bullying publicly the Boy-Who-Lived and other students to make them aware of their situations. What you need to understand, Mr Malfoy, is that you are going against a public figure who is appreciated if not loved by a good number of people, people that maybe your father has important dealings with." He had to admit, seeing the Malfoy scion deflate so quickly was terribly satisfying.

"But professor Snape is-"

"Professor Snape is an adult perfectly responsible for his own words and actions and, most importantly, he is not the son of Lucius Malfoy. I'm not asking you to go against your belief and your teaching, I'm asking you to make honor to the house you have been sorted into and think carefully about the consequences your actions may bring to your family. As an adult, it will be your duty to take your rightful place in this society after your father so if you want to preserve the dignity and the respect for the Malfoy House, you better start planning. Think as Hogwart as a training for the real world that's waiting for you at the end of your scholarship and ask yourself what your father would really do. Somehow I don't think he would curse another student in the corridor in front of every one just for the laugh."

Malfoy junior got nothing to say and just nodded and left with a deep pensive frown. Another problem solved thanks to mastermind with no equals like him, so he got even more time for his personal project aka 'get this damned stone'. The first obstacle was a Cerberus and the person responsible for this could not be more obvious so while he was considering on how to approach the big oaf, he began to test the water with the other professors to see if an opportunity of questioning could make itself apparent. Which led him to grading his papers in a community room used by the staff during the day.

"Quirinus, I'm surprised to see you there. Usually you don't wander too far away from your classroom." said Flitwick while sipping on a coffee.

"Hmm yes. Mister Finnigan made wonders with his wand… again, so I thought I needed a change of air for once. Honestly, I cannot understand how this boy can be so destructive without actively trying to." he lied skillfully to the part-goblin. Yes, let all the professors fall before his silver tongue and give him the opportunity he was asking!

"Ha, same here, same here. I think Severus is seriously considering to sneak him out of the castle to get him tested without telling Albus. The amount of additional work that student gives me can be tiring sometimes." Flitwick sighed as McGonagall came in the room and sat on a couch.

"Filius, Quirinus. Are you talking about Miss Granger again?"

"Not this time, Minerva, it was Finnigan explosive habits… but now that you mention it, could you please tell Miss Granger to reduce the length of her essays? Every time I assign some homework, I can be sure that her own will be twice or thrice the required length. Her aim to please is admirable, but it's clearly overdone and it takes as much time to grade her work than to grade six other students."

"Come now, Filius, surely you exaggerate. I admit she is quite the most studious but to say that she is an overachiever…" Not quite the opportunity he was seeking, but still. He was not going to miss a chance to bother the Headmistress Deputy.

"Actually, I happen to have the essays for her class with me. See, here is what I expected from this group, a standard sheet of parchment about Imps," he said while producing the work of Dean Thomas, average wizard but this was exactly what he needed this time. The parchment was not fully written with some blanks here and there but clearly the boy has done his work and deserved an 'Acceptable', EE even with a more merciful teacher. "And here is what Granger gave me, see the difference?" he said cheekily as he took out another parchment… and another one… and another one. Every one of them was completely covered with Granger's characteristic tiny handwriting… on both side which made them look like three black tiles from a certain distance. For his great pleasure, McGonagall seemed unable to answer, opening and closing her mouth several time before mumbling something evasive and exiting the room with a dignified but hurried pace, followed by Flitwick's giggle. Lord Voldemort sighed pleasantly for the small victory and returned to his work, glancing briefly at Granger's atrocity. He actually dreaded to think what would happen if he told her to work seriously, maybe Hogwarts would collapse on itself. But still, he would have to think about something because he could already tell he was going to spend the whole evening trying to decipher this.

And think of something, he did. After a class, he waited for most of the class to exit, patiently observing his prey stow all her stuff and pick her books, in plural, before going for the exit where Potter and the last Weasley were waiting for her. Now was the time to strike! "Miss Granger, a moment please." He had taken the time to closely observe her and it was rapidly obvious that she respected authoritative figures like him to the point and heard their words like if it was the law, something he had no shame to use on the mudlood in front of his desk while her friends did go to their other class. Glorious day. With measured and calm gestures, he pulled the very same work from Dean Thomas he showed to McGonagall but this time, he did not wait to place her own homework beside for comparison. "I'm sure you can tell me what is wrong here?"

"I… I'm not sure, professor. I mean, this is clearly my essay here and I can read this is Dean and… oh," Yes, oh. Now you began to see what was the problem here, you insufferable know-it-all mudblood. Start crying now and Lord Voldemort might feel merciful today. "I completely understand," Oh, how he loved to hear these words and the emotions behind it. The shame of failure and the remorse for not noticing it sooner. Pure music to his ears. "I will find Dean and tell him to work more seriously." Yes, such a pitiful excu- wait, what? NO! Quick, claim back the situation!

"Actually, it was not about that. When I gave this assignment, I asked for one sheet of parchment. One, miss Granger, not three and not on both sides filled to the brim with almost every information available. I can see you clearly want to show that you know the subject but if I wanted an encyclopedic definition of an Imp, I would have been looking for an encyclopedia. When I assign this kind of work, I want to be sure the students completely understood what was taught and are able to say it with their own word. Everyone can, given sufficient time, copy a book to the word but to synthesize its content in a coherent and concise text, that is the proof you clearly understand what you read. So, I will let it go this time but if you persevere in that way of handling your homework, I will find a way to express my… displeasure, probably with Madam Pince involvement. Are we clear?" There, the mudblood was properly struck with fear at the possibility to lose her access to the library for undefined time, so easy. Not that it really mattered for him, but in the future, she might not leave such a glaring weakness open for everyone to see and take advantage, especially now that he advised Malfoy to act more like his father. This promised to be entertaining to observe. Thoroughly chastised, the girl merely nodded and quickly got out when he allowed her with a brief gesture of his hand, surely to reflect on her approach on study. How could it be otherwise, when spoken to by such a superior being? That should take care of the problem.

And it did. The next time the girl nervously reported her homework, it fitted the required length, was much more constructed and clearly showed the crucial points relevant to the question. And so, the mudblood deserved her O and the next to come, all the more when he learned that she repeated his advice to the other class as Flitwick distractedly told him during a weekly meeting. Another durable problem solved and thanks to who? That's right, You-Know-Who! Seriously, how was this school still standing before he came?

As days and weeks passed, Lord Voldemort experienced many problems that he took upon himself to fix for his peace of mind, his course became one of most expected because of his rigor with acceptable answers and homework and because of the many anecdotes of his past he shared which made the class so much interesting and captivating. In turn, many more students became genuinely involved and interested with more advanced concepts and turned to him and the other teachers, which gradually improved the average mark to the point Hogwarts finally surpassed Beauxbatons and Dumrstrang -he was a bit horrified to learn that Hogwarts was lagging behind for the last thirty years, before his masterful intervention. And all while he was doing it, he realized he never had any problems with a young wizard named Harry Potter. Being his nemesis, he expected… not sure what he expected honestly, but what he was not expecting was such a normal boy. Attentive in class, messy handwriting but sill readable, never spoke out and answered correctly most of the time, a bit of talent in his class -oh, the irony- but nothing extraordinary and nothing that could suggest he received some sort of training. If he didn't know his name and his face, he would never have guessed this was the boy who was supposed to vanquish him by a thrice damned prophecy. But hey, all the easier for him.

And one day, as he was giving back Granger's essay, Optimal as expected, he realized two things: one, it was now two months since his last attempt to get the stone and two, he simply didn't care anymore. Such revelations distraught him to a point he had to cancel class for the rest of the day, to the worry of the students and other teachers. After a full day of unpleasant introspection, he came back to his role of DADA professor as if nothing had changed and forced himself to renew his efforts to obtain the stone, always butting against the mirror. Some nights, he never made it that far and just stayed with McGonagall's giant chess, playing to organize his thoughts and make himself productive. And there was still grading to do and the program to improve.

One month before the end of the school-year, 'Quirinus Quirrell' found himself in the Headmaster office, smiling pleasantly at Albus Dumbledore who reflected his smile but with a tad of tension on his face. The excuse of his summoning was to make a review of the professor's performance but he was sure Dumbledore was suspecting the truth about him without be able to prove it, and Lord Voldemort enjoyed every second of the exchange. His records were exemplary, the average score in his class tended to 'Optimal' and thanks to his efforts, the average grade in the whole school got upgraded to EE when it was barely 'Acceptable' before. The parents were delighted about their spawn progress, the board of governors agreed to allow more budget to renew the school equipment thanks to a few words from a Lucius Malfoy definitely pleased by his son manners in school -Hooch nearly kissed him when he reported the news- and there was discussion to finally exorcise Binns and replace him with a more competent teacher. And Dumbledore could do nothing but command him for his excellent work and results, oh glorious revenge!

"And I think that concludes this interview. Now Quirinus, what do you think will happen next year?" Subtle Dumbledore, but not subtle enough for him. Like he would give up this post just after one year.

"Why Headmaster, I daresay I very much anticipate next year program, with budget growth to take in consideration. With all the improvements that happened this year, it would be a shame to stop just there." There, a single reminder that it was thanks to him if the students got better grades, the school more money and less angry parents to deal with. Deal with it, old man.

"Of course, of course, I think we are all in the same length. Very well, I won't bother you more than necessary, I'm sure you have a busy day waiting for you."

His smile never slipping, he inclined his head and rose to his feet, feeling Dumbledore eyes on him as he made his way to the exit before pausing as if remembering something and just came back to place a very distinctive ruby stone on the desk. The minute widening of Dumbledore's eyes was so much satisfying that he nearly cackled on the spot. "Here, I don't think it is for the best for this stone to stay any longer in Hogwarts. I still caught three students who were interested in seeing the famous Cerberus on the third floor. It's fortunate that no parent ever caught wind of this or took it seriously, but I fear it would change rapidly if a student would happen to be mauled by the beast."

"How did you get it?" Dumbledore's voice was suddenly cold and cracking with power, like a whip about to be unleashed, but Lord Voldemort was made of another stuff. He locked his eyes with the Headmaster, neither of them fooled by the situation, and answered after a few seconds of silence.

"Actually that's quite amusing. I was in fact trying to decipher the mirror enchantments as a hobby, I also go down there for a game of chess from time to time, and while I was absently wondering how to get more budget for Hogwarts and listing the possible means to do so, I suddenly felt a weight in my pocket and next thing you know, I was looking at the Philosopher Stone in the palm of my hand. I admit, it was ingenious to charm it to be obtainable only by an uninterested motive but as proved, those things can be circumvented even by accident. I will leave you now, as you said I have lot of work to do." And he got out before Dumbledore could recover, allowing himself a small vindictive laugh. Such a great victory without a wand drawn out! He was humming a contented tune when he passed by the Golden Trio on their way to the library, always leaded by Granger and her inexhaustible motivation on knowledge.

"Good day, professor. You look satisfied."

"Oh I am, Miss Granger, I am. I really look forward next year with all the new subjects that will be covered." with new funds, now the real fun was about to begin.

"You mean you will be back for the next year?"

"I don't think I stuttered, Mister Weasley."

"Sorry Professor. It's just… you know, there is a rumor saying that position is cursed and my family never saw a teacher do it more than one year, so…"

"… I knew I was forgetting something!"

"Professor Quirrell?"

"Oh nothing, students. I just remembered I left something unattended. Now go on with your studies, I expect satisfying work from you three." he said while abruptly turning around and walking rapidly to his quarters. How could he forget the very curse he placed on the job he was now doing! It would simply not do to to fall because of his own scheme, not since there was so much to do here.

Yes, Lord Voldemort mused, it was not easy every day to be a professor at Hogwarts!


End file.
